


A Chance for Something More

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Conversations, Discussion of Abortion, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29433774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: "I'm gonna tell you something and you can't say anything until I'm done. And ideally you can't really have an opinion, but we can still have like a *conversation* about it or whatever."This sounded easy enough to Paul. He had navigated large swaths of his life having no opinion on almost anything.Emma and Paul find themselves rushed into a conversation about their future neither of them expected to have at the time. And Emma just doesn't want any kids, thank you very much.
Relationships: Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	A Chance for Something More

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so the thing is. Last weekend I told myself, what if cold turkey I switched to the English-optimized keyboard layout Dvorak? My typing speed is currently a bit over a third of what it was before and I'm still really getting used to this. Writing is of course painfully slow however for over a year now I've posted at least one story a week and I'm not about to stop now. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this, as well as Forever & Always coming up later today!

Paul's fingers drummed merrily against the wheel of his car as the rolling sound of the road unfolding ahead lulled him into the weekend he had been looking forward to for days now. An overnight bag on the backseat, some fancy crispy snacks he had seen Emma buy before on payday (an offering to thank her for the invite), he had every intention of making the best of it, treating her like the miraculous lady of his dreams that she was. If he had been of any musical inclination, he would have been whistling for joy but such as he was, his fingers tapped just about the only dance he was willing to allow himself. He was, for once in his uneventful dull life, perfectly happy.

Things were going as well as could be with Emma — if he was permitted the confidence. They had seen each other for close to five months now without much of a hitch. Though he still had the nagging persuasion that he was the lucky one of the two of them, that he had hit gold and found incredible fortune, the awkwardness of a very new relationship was slowly fading and the comfort that lay underneath was everything he had hoped for. Emma never made him feel less than. She was affectionate, if not very wordy on the matter, and Paul knew that he was a lucky one for so much more than her beauty and bravery. All parts of her were lovable, the ones he had fallen for and the ones he kept unveiling. Better yet, she too seemed to be finding little fault in him. Although overly cautious by nature, Paul was finding that he was rather secure in the mutuality of their blossoming relationship. The two of them truly felt like a pair — a very well matched one.

"Come on in," Emma said through a puff of steam and a loud happy bark from her canine companion. Dinner seemed to be well underway. "Pancho, leave him alone, you know he's afraid!"

To the best of his abilities, Paul tried to ignore the overexcited mutt whom, though friendly to an extreme, he had yet to really grow to like any more than he liked any given dog, Emma's or otherwise. Poor Pancho seemed to sense the gap of affection between them and sought at any cost to breach it but, much to Paul's great luck, his need for excess displays of affection did not surpass his unwavering love and obedience for his human friend and master. Subdued, he went back to his bed with a low disappointed whimper and Paul could breathe again.

"It's not that I'm afraid..." He started, but Emma cocked an eyebrow at him and he ended the lie right there. He dropped his bag on the couch. “Anyways… Hi.”

They smiled at each other. Her hair was caught in a loose bun she reached back to tighten. He adored her more than ever in all those moments at her home when her guard was down and she was more like herself, her slightly messy casual self.

"I made empanadas," she said for a greeting, gesturing at the cooling rack straight out of the oven. Paul's favorite from the new repertory of cuisine Emma was opening him to. There was much he had never known before Emma. "But..."

She took him by the hands and pulled him towards the couch. Pancho glanced at the rack on the counter left unobserved and whined softly, knowing he would have to wait that much longer for a bite.

"Sit," Emma said rather unceremoniously and Paul noticed that she was frowning. "I wanna get this over with asap."

"Are you okay?" He asked with some concern. "Did you need me to..."

"I said sit, goddamit!"

She realized her outburst and sighed in frustration. Paul sat. He felt a little stiff, a bit uncomfortable.

"Sorry..."

She paced around the very small room a few times before pausing in front of him and looking at him right in the eyes.

"I'm gonna tell you something," she said in an oddly distant voice, "and you can't say anything until I'm done. And ideally you can't really have an opinion, but we can still have like a _conversation_ about it or whatever."

This sounded easy enough to Paul. He had navigated large swaths of his life having no opinion on almost anything. He sat there nervously and nodded at her to go on, not quite sure if the silence order was effective immediately. Emma's mouth narrowed uncomfortably and she sat next to him and stared at the wall ahead.

"Condom failed," she said, very matter of fact even now and about this. "I took a few different tests to be sure. I'm knocked up."

Paul somehow had no hard time at all keeping his tongue to himself. He did not know what to think, much less what to say when everything of Emma's demeanor spoke more of grievous news than of a happy accident. He sat and shut his mouth. Emma threw him a quick glance before going on.

"I'm getting rid of it. I've already booked the doctor, I'm going on Wednesday."

He did not know why he had expected exactly this when they had never talked about kids before — or the lack thereof. Her present withdrawn attitude was only part of it. He might have thought the same if she'd texted him bluntly, although he was grateful that she had not.

"Okay," he said tentatively.

He thought Emma untensed ever so slightly at that, though he wasn't so sure. She still wouldn't look at him and in return, he stared intently at the shabby wallpaper painted three times over by as many careless tenants. This too was Hatchetfield for her, lived in but hardly by herself.

"It's not... It's not just because it's only been five months, although for fuck's sake, we're only now truly getting closer, it's... I'd do that every time if I had to. I just don't want any damn kid."

His hands had started to twitch nervously despite himself and Emma must have noticed, for she took them between hers and squeezed softly. They looked at each other.

"It's got nothing to do with you."

" _I know that_ ," he hurried to defend himself. "I'm not making this about myself, I'm just..."

But Emma shook her head, even smiled to reassure him.

"No, I mean, it's not because it's _yours_." She sighed. "Though I'll have to be more careful, I'd really rather not make a habit of this, but... It's not because of you. It's like a me problem."

Paul frowned.

"It's not a _problem_ ," he pointed out. "Not really, I think."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, dropped his hands back on his lap. They were no longer shaking. Emma could always soothe him. She stood again.

"The empanadas are ready," she said with a little shrug. "You can talk now, alright? As long as you don't try to talk me out of it."

He helped her serve the plates, two on the table, one on the floor for the most eager dinner guest of the three of them. Their feet touching under the table, something delicious between them, Paul thought he could speak his mind.

"I wouldn't try to talk you out of it," he said and toyed with the food on his plate anxiously. "Emma, I'd never do that."

"I wasn't gonna have the kids talk so early," she said as though in apology. "Maybe never at all, I dunno... I... It's not something I think about. When I think about us, I mean."

Still to this day, the casual mention of an 'us' was making Paul feel warm with affection and he reached to hold Emma's hand — she too had been playing with her food without eating. They were something, they were an 'us' and had been for a while, and that alone was all Paul could ever ask for. That was plenty and enough.

"I don't think I have either," he admitted. "There's how close you are to Tim, I could have thought, but..."

"See, that's what I'm saying!" She cried out with animation. "When Tom let us have him for the weekend? We had so much fun and I'd do it again but man, I slept for twelve hours after that..."

She bit into an empanada and munched for a long time thoughtfully. Paul said nothing. He wondered if there was anything to say. The decision was so clear that even if he'd had an opinion, it wouldn't have mattered to express it.

"He like, fills up my kids quota, you know?" She chuckled to herself affectionately, shook her head. "Right to the brim, that fucking tyrant. I love him so much."

Paul smiled. Ever since they had reconnected, Tim had awoken a part of Emma that rarely showed otherwise, a softer side of her, more desperate too. More awkward, more open. Less biting, though Paul loved her either way, whichever way. She adored the boy for what he meant, he knew, but not only. She loved him for his own sake, not just for being the son of a sister she missed dearly. He thought of how self-conscious he had felt around Tim himself at first, though they were now starting to like each other somewhat under Emma's tacit command. The three of them made quite the trio, cool aunt, quirky nephew and whatever it was that Paul brought to the table. He was glad to babysit, but also to drive Tim home at the end of the day.

"I never thought I _didn't_ want kids," he said, formulating for the first time something he had never truly stopped and reflected on. Emma perked up and he frowned at his own self. "I only never really thought... I thought maybe if a partner wanted them, then I'd be okay with them. Maybe."

He realized then that this told him more than he had initially thought. He did not really believe, now that he thought about it in serious, that bringing a brand new life into existence should be a half-hearted maybe sort of decision. Perhaps his own mind had been more set than he had known.

"Yeah," he said, now more certain. "Yeah, I don't think I _really_ want kids either. I only want... I only want you."

Emma smiled and just then there was a hint of that Emma he was so in love with, that timidity that was so rare on her. He was certain he was one of the lucky few who would ever see it and for that reason, he especially cherished it.

"Okay, so this is gonna sound..."

She trailed off and held onto his hand, patting it more for her own comfort than hers.

"I like you a lot, alright? I... I love you, I think, and you're this really nice guy and I don't mind spending all that time with you and that you come over all the time. I like it when you do."

She was looking at him as though she had more to say, though more never came. Paul's thumb stroked her palm.

"... Thank you?" He said. "I love you too." He smirked. "I think."

She huffed in quiet laughter but he could see that she truly was more relaxed now that the shock of the news no longer stunned him. He wondered if she had expected him to put up a fight, although he doubted that. Emma knew him half by heart already.

"It's not that I don't see a future with you," she went on, emboldened. The love bomb had been dropped before, it wasn't all brand new on them, but still recent and seldom enough to maintain the new toy factor between them and Paul felt the words almost tangible in the air. "I definitely do. I want it to come to us, or to build it or something."

"With no kids," Paul smiled.

"With no damn kids," Emma agreed. She pulled the hands to her and, rarely so sappy, kissed his knuckles. "You're more than enough."

Eating dinner together, Paul noticed without naming it how much closer he felt to her than just an hour before. She slipped food to Pancho and laughed at Paul's reluctance to do the same, she talked of this and that and sometimes of nothing at all, and there was a renewed affection palpable between the two of them he was starting to sense. Crossing off life paths they didn't want, he realized, made the road they were on all the more vivid. He wanted this, living and laughing and loving right here on Emma Perkins. He wanted her for the rest of his days if she would have him.

Of course, he offered to go with her at the doctor's appointment, which she took him up on, of course she semi-joked that just for the weekend they might forgo condoms altogether since the worst had already come to pass — a joke neither of them followed through with, afraid to tempt fate with carelessness a second time. A few times, she made some more crude jokes about the matter that might have been in poor taste from anyone else, but Paul loved knowing that the two of them and especially her were now very comfortable with the decision to keep that future they spoke of just between them.

Later they made love, later they went to bed — in that order. Paul held her in his arms and a long moment went by without of them saying a word, though neither was sleeping yet either. Emma nuzzled his neck comfortably and sighed, so very relaxed.

"Hey, thank you, okay?" She muttered.

Paul felt a kiss in the crook of his neck he repaid with one on top of Emma's tousled hair.

"Okay," he replied. "It's all gonna be okay."

And in Emma's embrace, just the two of them, he seemed to truly believe it.


End file.
